


Break My Heart Upon this Dying World

by morganoconner



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friendship, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: In the days after the world ended, Sid and Geno became the de facto leaders in what was left of the city of Pittsburgh. It's been years since then, and whatever friendship once existed has festered from too long spent fighting over how best to keep the city safe.But some bonds are too strong to everreallybreak.





	Break My Heart Upon this Dying World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coricomile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/gifts).



It was nine kinds of stupid, going out into the Wasteland without backup. Maybe – _maybe_ – if Geno had gone in a tank, or even one of the retrofitted SUVs, with enough firepower to nuke a city or two, that would be something different, but he hadn't. He'd gone on his own two feet, when everyone else was apparently asleep at their posts, and he'd gone armed with only a shotgun and several pouches of spare ammo on his belt. Because he was a fucking moron.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sidney growled, tugging on the thread hard enough to make Geno hiss.

"Not think," Geno admitted through gritted teeth. "All you ever do, think. So much thinking, nothing ever gets done. Stupid way to fight war, Crosby."

The _Crosby_ still made Sidney flinch, though he thought he hid it well. Geno hadn't called him _Sid_ in…god, in years.

Being the closest thing Pittsburgh had anymore to leaders had been fine and dandy in theory, when all of this first started. Until they'd found themselves on opposite sides of a political divide neither had seen forming. All because Sidney had known with bone-deep certainly that going on the offensive would needlessly end lives, and Geno was equally steadfast in his conviction that staying solely on the defense was tying an invisible noose around their necks tighter.

There was no way of knowing who was right or wrong, and they'd been fighting about it for two years now, since the walls around the city were built. The closest they'd ever come to a compromise was when Geno started leading a band of battle-hardened survivors out twice a week on raids, to gather supplies from surrounding dead zones; it was the only time they were allowed to take out as many Taken as were stupid enough to attack them.

Sidney kept to himself exactly how much he hated it every time Geno left, but at least in the past, Geno had always been mostly smart about it.

"Flower is going to kill you," Sidney muttered, tying another stitch neatly off and cutting it with his teeth because scissors were a luxury he couldn't bother searching for with Geno bleeding out on his couch.

"Flower would never," Geno said.

"Flower might," Flower responded from behind Sidney. It said something that Sidney didn't jump, didn't even turn around to glance at his best friend who was undoubtedly leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and scowling, judging by his tone.

Geno scowled right back, first at Flower and then at Sidney when he pushed the needle back through the torn skin under Geno's ribs.

"You, my friend, are very lucky we had a meeting scheduled this morning," Flower continued. "If I hadn't gone to your house and seen that map and all your angry notes–"

"Practically a suicide note." Sidney was growling again, couldn't help it, because he'd seen Geno's scribblings, too, when Flower had rammed his way into Sidney's kitchen early that morning, swearing a blue streak (mostly in French) about Geno's latest bout of lunacy.

"Told you about nest three weeks ago." Geno wasn't shouting, but he was as close as he could get when Sidney was jabbing him with sharp objects, and he didn't just look irritated now, he looked _pissed_. "Taken come last month, almost steal Guentz right from under nose during patrol. You don't listen. I try to tell again. You keep ignoring. Finally I say, fine, you won't do anything, I do."

But he'd kept everyone else out of it. Which meant he'd _known_ just how stupid it was, and hadn't wanted to put anyone else at risk.

Sidney wished he could believe that Geno had just been trying to make a point, had never really been in serious danger, but Geno wasn't the sort. Geno was just _all in_ , did things with his whole heart and always, always, leapt before looking. And the blood soaking Sidney's hands was enough of a testament to make Sidney shiver.

"I'm going to go to the greenhouses and help Cath and Mira take inventory," Flower said. He stepped further into the room first though, sliding up to the couch and crouching down so that he was staring directly into Geno's eyes. "You will stay put. And you will heal. And you will not do something so incredibly stupid again."

Geno's jaw clenched, that perpetual glint of stubbornness making his eyes harder than they should be, but he nodded. "Okay, Flower." He paused. "Thank you. For get Sid."

That was enough to make Sidney start, and his hands stilled over the last stitch before he forced himself to finish tying the knot. Even Flower looked surprised, or as surprised as Flower ever looked these days, but he managed a short nod and turned to Sidney.

"You will keep him here?" he asked, though it was more of an order than a question. For all that Sid and Geno shared the responsibility of the city, Flower kept them both in check and played ambassador in between. It wasn't a job he particularly enjoyed, Sidney knew.

"Of course," Sidney said, keeping his gaze focused on Geno's ribs as he applied a clean bandage to the wound.

"Hmm." Flower clearly wasn't buying it. "And you will not kill each other in my absence?"

Sidney rolled his eyes, leveling a glare on Flower, who was already nodding in satisfaction and backing out of the living room with a wave.

"Stupid goalies, always think they know everything," Geno muttered, along with something in Russian Sidney didn't catch.

"He hasn't been a goalie in a long time," Sidney pointed out, which just made Geno snort, and also did nothing to dispute the point.

"Once goalie, always goalie."

Which was probably true enough, but thinking about hockey still hurt on a deeply visceral level, so Sidney just _didn't_. "Well, he's right, anyway. You're in no shape to go home right now."

"You look after me, Crosby?" Geno asked sarcastically. It just made Sidney tired.

"Yes," he replied simply, and got up to go wash his hands while Geno blinked after him with a dumbfounded expression.

***

The guest room hadn't gotten a lot of use the past couple years, but it wasn't much effort to throw on some sheets and clear a bit of the dust. At least Geno would be comfortable. Maybe he'd even allow himself to rest. He looked like he could use it. With Vero, Muzz, and Taylor on watch duty that night, maybe even Sidney would get some rest without waking up in a constant panic.

He leaned back against the wall with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to try and get himself together, but as soon as he did flashes of gunfire blinded him and red, the same red as Geno's blood, overtook the blackness behind his eyes. He shuddered, staring up at the ceiling until his breathing calmed.

Geno was fine. Sidney had reached the nest in time, gotten Geno out of there before the Taken could kill him or turn him. He'd already tested the gash; there was no infection.

Geno was fine.

Geno was _fine_.

But no matter how many times Sidney repeated that to himself, it didn't shake the fear, the knowledge that he almost wasn't.

***

Geno spent what was left of the afternoon on the couch, uncomfortable though it must have been, until the sun began to set and Sidney lit the primary candles and lanterns he kept throughout the main floor of his house and asked Geno about dinner.

"Not hungry," Geno replied, quiet, not looking at Sidney.

Sidney didn't push, although Geno should really eat if he was going to keep his strength up and heal quickly. But for now, he got them both a water and settled into the chair next to Geno with the book he was reading.

"Why you here all day?" Geno asked after a long moment. "No meetings? No jobs?"

"Not today," Sidney replied easily. "Conor and I are getting together tomorrow to start the next round of inventory, but it's nothing that couldn't wait a day." Like Sidney was going to be up for much of anything after several hours spent playing search-and-rescue in the Wasteland.

"Always lots to do," Geno pointed out, not unreasonably, though Sidney thought the obstinate tone was a bit much. But then, that was Geno.

"Of course. And taking care of friends ranks pretty highly on the list," he said, voice quieter than he meant for it.

Geno blinked at him, then flushed and looked quickly away. "We friends now, Crosby?"

"I always thought so," Sidney sighed. "Maybe I was wrong. Who even knows anymore?" Maybe Sidney just hadn't learned how to let go, even when Geno clearly did, politics and rivalry turning whatever threads had once been between them dark and brittle. When Geno didn't reply, Sidney tried to go back to his book, carefully flipping pages even when he wasn't taking in a single word, just to pretend at normalcy.

It was a long time before Geno spoke again. "What you read?"

"Oh, um." Sidney flushed. "It's a fictional account of a World War I soldier." He shrugged a little, hoping the candles hid his red face. With everything that had happened to the world, his fascination with history – once a source of deep locker room amusement – still lived on, and even Flower still teased him about it, when they were both feeling lighthearted enough and capable of laughter.

Geno didn't tease, just tilted his head in consideration. "Is good book?"

"Sure," Sidney said with another self-conscious shrug. He paused, then drew in a breath, bracing himself. "Do you, um. I can read you some? If you want?"

It was something they used to do, a long time ago, when the world was still normal, before there were Taken and the Wasteland and dead zones, before so many people had died, before becoming the leaders of opposing factions within the city that had always welcomed them both so warmly. Long before world championships and three Stanley Cup rings. When they were still practically kids, Geno suffering from a language barrier he didn't know how to overcome…Sid would read to him.

It had been a long time. But Geno nodded, and some of the tension Sidney was carrying in his shoulders eased.

"Okay," he said, and flipped back to the beginning of the book, since he knew Geno would appreciate the build-up to the story.

He read softly through the rest of the afternoon and long into the evening, with Geno listening intently enough that he didn't interrupt once, until the candlelight began to sputter and the night outside was turning black. Then he helped Geno to sit up, forced some cold broth down his throat, and let Geno lean on him as he led him to the guest room to sleep.

Geno's warm fingers curled around his wrist as Sidney was about to leave the room, and he held him back gently. "Sid," he said, the name heavy on his tongue. It made Sidney swallow hard, something rising in his throat he couldn't name. "I'm never…want you to know, I'm not want to fight you. So long, is just. Everything go to hell. Trapped far from home. Just want to _do_ something. Never meant it should get this bad. I'm sorry, Sid. I hope…I hope we still friends. Even if I'm bad friend. Worst." He looked genuinely anguished, and Sidney's heart gave a couple unsteady beats.

"Not the worst, G," he replied softly. "We've both been pretty lousy friends. I…" Sidney stopped, swallowing again, measuring his words. "I know things are hard. For all of us. But I still care about you. That'll never change. And…I think we're still friends. Or we still can be. I don't think it's too late. We can figure things out, eh? That's more important to me than any of this. You…you're more important."

The candlelight created a softness, and an intimacy, that was obviously dangerous to his tongue. Sidney needed to leave before he said more, far more than he was ready to say.

"We'll talk more in the morning, okay, G? Get some rest."

He blew out the lantern flame on his way out of the room and didn't pause to hear if Geno made any sort of reply.

***

"Status?" Sidney smothered a yawn, speaking into a crackly radio just as dawn was beginning to crest over the horizon.

"All clear," Taylor replied. "They were quiet last night, Sid. Whatever you did to them clearly scared them off for a while."

"Let's hope so," Sidney sighed, not wanting to think about yesterday's firefight. He was an okay fighter when he had to be, but he would never like it, never _want_ it the way some people did. A gun would never feel as right in his hands as a hockey stick once had, but the guns were all he had left.

He had to go past the guest room on the way to the kitchen, so Sidney took a moment to peak in. Geno was still sleeping, limbs akimbo and half thrown over the covers, mouth hanging open with a bit of drool in one corner. It was endearing in a way Sidney didn't want to think about too hard, so he left the door open and made his way into the kitchen to get some omelets going while he had the time.

The whole city ran on generators at this point, and there was a strictly enforced allotment of three hours each morning when electricity was provided throughout. Otherwise, the only things that were kept running on a regular basis were the two medical centers, and the electric fence beyond the high wall that served two purposes: to deter Taken from getting in, and to sound an alert if any were stupid enough to try and the lookouts missed them.

What this all meant was that breakfast was the only meal Sidney could regularly use his normal stove to cook, and he savored it. He'd also get his supper cooked up and stored away to be reheated over a flame later that night, but it wasn't the same.

Geno must have been roused by the smell of food, because he stumbled into the kitchen just as Sidney was adding fresh herbs to the eggs and sat down heavily at the table, clutching at his side and taking a few unsteady breaths.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Sidney gave him a look. "I didn't sew you up just to have you be stupid about it." Coffee was a luxury they'd all had to learn to live without, but Sidney grabbed a glass of water, which he handed to Geno and then bent to pull his shirt up to examine the wound, batting Geno's hand away when he tried to stop him.

"Am fine. Don't need be babied," Geno muttered, but sat back with an exaggerated sigh and let Sidney peel back the bandage anyway.

"It's warmer than I'd like," Sidney said, ignoring the complaint. "But not too inflamed. We'll disinfect again and rebandage it after breakfast. You are so damn lucky that thing didn't bite you." His voice tightened, and Geno reached out to grasp Sidney's shoulder, forcing him to meet Geno's eyes.

"I know," he said, very seriously. "I know, Sid. Was stupid. Very lucky you come when you do."

Sidney sighed. "I always have your back, G."

Geno nodded. "Me too. Think we both forget that for long time."

"Yeah." Sidney cleared his throat, standing and going back to his omelets before they burned. While he was safely facing the pan and not Geno's expression, he said, "You know, we should, um. Maybe talk about making some changes. I'm not saying we should be out there every day, guns blazing. I still think focusing on defense is the best course of action for the people who live here. But. You were right about the nest, and it was dangerous, letting it stay there. Letting them multiply like they were, so close." He took a breath, held it for a long moment, released. "There also…there hasn't been anyone to come here in, I don't know, a while? When was the last group, six months?" The days blurred together sometimes.

"Nine," Geno replied quietly.

"That's too long," Sidney said, shaking his head. "I know the next closest city is further than is really safe, but we should check. Send a convoy over, see if there's any news from…anywhere."

"Columbus," Geno snorted, without heat. Whatever rivalries had existed in the hockey world, there was no place for them anymore. If Dubinsky or even Giroux ever showed up at their wall, Sidney would take them in and embrace them, no question. There were too few people left, and too many Taken.

"Yeah," Sidney turned to slant a quick grin at him. "Anyway, I would trust Taylor to take point on a mission like that. And you and I could…stay here. Show the city that we're working together, present a united front for whatever comes next." He hated the idea of letting his little sister out of his sight, but Taylor had proven more than capable of handling herself. Sidney wasn't sure what he would have done without here the last few years, and he always counted his blessings that she happened to be visiting when everything started going to hell.

"Is good idea," Geno acknowledged with a nod. "And…don't disagree, that defense is good. Just. Not only thing we need."

"I know." Sidney sat down across from Geno, handing him a plate and smiling a little when Geno dug in immediately. "I don't like it, but I know." He huffed a little. "The Penguins were never a hard-hitting team, you know. We always found other ways to win."

One corner of Geno's mouth tugged up into an almost-smile. "We hit when it counted." Which was, of course, true. "We make this work, Sid. Be safe about it, too."

 _As safe as we can be_ , Sidney added, but didn't say it out loud. There was no reason, and it was so nice, sitting here with Geno, trying to work together for the first time in…too long.

How had things gotten so bad between them?

"I missed you."

At first Sidney thought it was he who'd spoken, unable to stopper the words that had been wanting to escape since yesterday, since riding in the back of Flower's Jeep with Geno leaning against him, crying out as Sidney had held a rag tightly to his ribs to keep him from bleeding out before they got somewhere secure.

But it wasn't him, it was Geno who'd spoken, Geno who was staring at him now with his heart in his eyes, food forgotten in front of him, hands clasped together like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out.

So Sidney reached out instead, taking a chance that was scarier than any he could remember taking before. He pulled Geno's hands apart and clasped one of them, then turned his palm so he could lace their fingers together even as his heart raced. "Me too, G," he said, barely above a whisper.

Geno stared at their hands for a long moment, then looked back up at Sid, a suspicious gleam in his eyes. He seemed incapable of words, but when Sidney went to draw away, he squeezed tightly, not letting go, and that…

Well. Sidney was okay with that.

***

Sidney got Geno back on the couch after breakfast. He knelt beside him, medical supplies at the ready and Geno hissing and grumbling his way through the disinfecting process. "Oh, stop," Sidney said, rolling his eyes. "You've been through worse than this."

" _Hurts_ , Sid," Geno whined pathetically. Sidney had to fight to hold back a smile.

"You'll live," he promised, and mentally added a _thank God_. The clean bandage was applied easily enough, and he patted Geno's good side. "See? Good to go. As long as you actually rest and don't tear the stitches, anyway."

Geno mumbled something probably better left untranslated. Sidney's mind again went to the day before, gunfire flashing behind his eyes, the screams of the Taken ringing in his ears.

Too close.

"Please, Geno," he said quietly, looking away from Geno's eyes and staring instead at the covered gash that could have been so, so much worse. "Please let yourself heal before you go back out there."

Geno was very quiet and very still for several moments, and then he reached up, cupping Sidney's face and turning him back towards him. "Promise," he said when Sidney finally met his gaze again, and Sidney nodded. It was a weakness he couldn't help, leaning down to press his forehead to Geno's, breath trembling in his lungs as he thought _what if, what if, what if…_

"Sid…" Geno whispered, and when Sidney tried to pull back, tried to gather himself together the way he never seemed to be able to lately, Geno kissed him.

 _Oh_ , Sidney thought, falling into it with a sigh, because as nonsensical as this was, it was also the _only_ thing that made sense.

This was home, the way Cole Harbor was home, the way Pittsburgh was home, the way Taylor was home. This was Sidney's heart opening to Geno even as his mouth did, this was comfort and familiarity and team and friendship and _family_ , and he clutched at Geno, trying to pour all of that into this perfect moment, this perfect kiss. This, Sidney couldn't help thinking, was what he and Geno were always supposed to be.

"I love you," he whispered against Geno's lips, and maybe it was too soon, too easy to say the words after everything they'd been through, but it had also been true for so long that Sidney could no longer remember a time it _hadn't_ been true.

Geno groaned, fingers curling into Sidney's hair as he stared at him, the softest look in his eyes. He twisted, sitting up just enough that he could press a soft kiss to Sidney's forehead, then to his cheek, then to his mouth. He murmured something back, something in Russian, and it sounded soft and sweet and so heartfelt. Sidney didn't think he needed the exact translation to understand the feeling behind it.

Sidney knew, whatever came next wouldn't be easy. They couldn't mend the divide in the city overnight, and there would always be people who disagreed with _whatever_ decisions they made. But for the first time, Sidney thought maybe they could get through this, side by side like they'd always been before.

The world had ended, yes, that was an undeniable truth.

But there was no reason Sidney and Geno had to end with it.


End file.
